So, it’s all very well and good to do the money magic, but then there is the little matter of opening my mail. Filling out the job application. Facing the budget and paying the bills.
It’s all very well and good to weave the spine of a new magical web. Which I totally did, by the way. I swear, my body is changed. Pain gone. True. Yesterday I sat for two and a half hours filling out the labyrinthine job application on the City’s web site and it didn’t hurt. I’ve been siting for three today and no pain! But the job... I’m not sure if it’s the job for me. I showed it to a friend Sunday and she said “Don’t get me wrong, but I think you are too senior for this job.” I’m pretty sure she meant that I am a genius and have gobs of experience, and not that I am over 40 and just signed up for Instagram for the first time yesterday. After watching a YouTube video to tell me how the fuck it works.
Maybe I shouldn’t be writing all of this, right where all my future employers can see it? I think that, from time to time. Edith says it quite a lot, actually.
But I’m in this for the big change, for The Great Turning, as Joanna Macy calls it, from an industrial growth society to a life-sustaining society. And I’m pretty sure that the pressure to pretend is one of the primary problems in our way. (How’s that for alliteration, huh?)
Anyway. I might be too senior, either definition. But the happenstance, (see post about that here) of walking along and realizing that I really want to do public engagement for the Department of Neighborhoods, and then writing the resume and then seeing the public engagement for the Department of Neighborhoods job listing… I mean, if you get served a soft ball like that and you don’t swing, the Goddess might not invite you to the after party where the really good cocktails get served. Right? (I know that metaphor is only marginally sensible, but it works for me.)
Plus, one of the magics I am really working right now is that I am willing to not know.
So, I did it. I filled out the many fields in the application. It was pretty easy, actually. And I sent in a letter today for a witchy teaching job next summer.
And as for the magic underneath it all… there is a garden spider who has been feasting at my kitchen window for about two months now. She has spun a huge, beautiful orb web on the outside of the window, where the bugs who are headed for the light become her dinners. The web is a spiral, bigger than a dinner plate, and when I stand at the sink to do dishes or at the large cutting board, knife in hand, her pattern lies between my eyes and the hummingbirds, the scarlet vine maple leaves, the greying mountains. Hers is the barely visible template under it all.
I’m pretty sure my money spell can be like that. For the budget and the pile of mail. If I just squint a little...